


The Good Place

by lovinthelads



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9430985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinthelads/pseuds/lovinthelads
Summary: Based on the television show of the same name.  Diego Costa has died and gone to...heaven?





	1. Chapter 1

Diego blinked. He was staring up at a wall that said:

"Welcome! Everything is fine!"

Well, that was good, Diego thought as he looked around. He was sitting on a couch, dressed in his track suit he normally wore as he roamed the streets of the Brazilian town he called home. In fact, the last thing he remembered was leaving the house for the morning, out to makes some deals and check in with all his business ventures.

"Diego Costa?"

Diego turned and saw a tall man in a very nice suit smiling down at him. "Uh, yes?"

"Welcome, Diego. This is The Good Place."

"The...what?"

"The Good Place," the man smiled. "My name is Roman Abramovich." He sat next to Diego and took his hand.

Diego was about to smack this Roman guy because what the hell??

"Diego, I have news for you and it's going to come as a bit of a shock."

"Yes?"

"Diego, you're dead."

"I'm....dead?"

"Yes," Roman said kindly. "But it's all fine now. You're in The Good Place."

"The...what?"

"Come with me," Roman said and stood, still holding Diego's hand. Seriously, Diego was about to slap this man.

He wrested his hand free, but followed Roman into the office. It was a really nice place, warmly decorated. This wasn't like any place he knew in his town. But...he wasn't in his town any more, was he...he was in...

"So is this heaven?"

Roman sat down at the desk and gestured for Diego to sit across from him. "Since the beginning of time, man has attempted to make sense of what happens after you die. In all of recorded history, you've managed to get about 10% of it right."

"So...there's no Saint Peter here to judge me?" Diego said, knowing that both his church going record and his vocational choices were not likely to get him past Peter. His grandmother had repeatedly told him so.

"No," Roman smiled. "We don't pass judgment on you at the end of your life."

Well, thank...

"We've been keeping tabs on you your entire life."

Diego's stomach dropped. "You...have...?"

"Yes," Roman said with a smile. He picked up a remote and turned on a TV screen to the side of the room.

"Welcome to The Good Place," a cheerful voice said. "If you're wondering how you ended up here, let me explain." Pictures filled the screen as the voice spoke. "You see, as a person makes his or her way through life, each choice they make is ranked on a scale of goodness. Say perhaps you save a kitten from a tree, this would get you positive points. Perhaps you cut someone off at an intersection, this would get you negative points."

Diego's stomach churned.

"In the end, your life is tallied up to reflect the impact you've had on the world. If your number is high enough, you come here, to The Good Place!" A picture of a happy little town appeared on the screen, something Diego might have seen on an old 1950s American television program.

The video ended and Roman switched off the television.

"So...I qualified for The Good Place?" Diego said, hoping he didn't sound as incredulous as he felt.

Roman chuckled. "Did you qualify??? Diego, you had one of the highest scores we've ever seen here!"

"Well, great!" Diego said and smiled.

"We need to get down to the town, but before we go, have you got any questions?"

Diego had too many questions.

"How...how did I die?"

The smile faltered slightly on Roman's face. "Well," he said, "We don't like to dwell on the negative, as we have wiped your memory so that you don't have to remember the...trauma of your death."

"Was it sudden?" Diego asked, last remembering breakfast in his house. He'd been perfectly healthy.

"Yes," Roman said with a nod. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Well," Roman said. "You left your house this morning to take gifts to the housebound elderly people in your neighborhood when a man trying to escape the husband of his lover fell off a ladder and crushed you."

Diego grimaced. "Really?"

"That didn’t kill you,” Roman admitted. “You were struggling to get out from underneath him when a pack of girl scouts on bicycles came through the alleyway and crushed you.”

“Girl Scouts??”

“You died instantly, so...there's that," Roman said and put the smile back on his face. "Come on. You don't want to hang about here all day. We're about to meet in the center of The Good Place with your fellow neighbors to get the ball rolling for this new neighborhood."

Roman led Diego out of the office and down an elevator. Along the way he explained that each of the one hundred occupants of this particular neighborhood had been specifically chosen to live together for compatibility reasons.

"Essentially, you get to spend eternity with people exactly like you!"

That, Diego thought, sounded like hell.

They left the building and found themselves on the quaint square from the video. Diego looked around, amazed. There was a frozen yogurt place right ahead of him. Was that what people wanted for eternity? Personally, he'd have put a gelato stand in. There were other shops for groceries and a few restaurants.

And another frozen yogurt stand.

"Why is there so much frozen yogurt?" Diego asked.

"Who doesn't love frozen yogurt!" Roman said happily and detoured to the closest shop. Diego followed a bit reluctantly. 

"Two please," Roman said, and the happy looking teenager behind the counter handed over two waffle cones.

"What flavor is this?" Diego asked.

"Your favorite," Roman smiled as he took a lick.

Diego took a tentative lick, expecting something slightly disappointing, but instead a chocolatey flavor burst on his tongue, causing him to actually moan with pleasure. "Oh my god."

"Good, isn't it?" Roman said. "It's created to provide a flavor experience exactly matched to the person eating it. Mine is strawberry."

"Mine is chocolate!" Diego said, well and truly amazed. He hungrily licked more.

"And, since it's frozen yogurt, it's fat free!"

Diego devoured the cone. It was literally the best thing he'd ever eaten ever. "Can we have more?"

"Not just now," Roman chuckled as he lead Diego back out of the shop. The people milling around the square had begun to assemble in front of a large screen like perhaps there was going to be an outdoor movie or something. Diego briefly wondered if you got to see new movies in the afterlife. There was a new Spiderman movie coming out this summer he really wanted to see…

“You can sit by me!” said a cheerful voice, and Diego looked down to see a smiling face surrounded by a riot of curly hair. 

“Uh, thanks,” Diego said as he took the open chair.

“This is so exciting,” the man said. “I’m David Luiz.”

“Hi, I’m Diego.”

“Diego! So good to meet you. This is great. Did you have some frozen yogurt? So good. I cannot wait to meet my soulmate, can you?”

“Soumate?”

But David didn’t get a chance to answer as somehow the world went a bit dark as the screen lit up.

“Hello! And welcome to The Good Place!”

It was the same voice as before, but this time a curly haired man appeared with a wide smile. There was an enthusiastic applause. “My name is Cesc. I will be your guide and assistant here in The Good Place. If every you require assistance, simply call for me and I will arrive.”

“Cesc! I need more frozen yogurt!” someone called and there was a good natured ripple of laughter through the crowd.

Cesc appeared next to the person who’d called out with a cone in his hand. “Did you want sprinkles?

There was a cheer as the person accepted the cone and took a lick.

Cesc disappeared and reappeared on the screen. “As you see, anything you need.”

Diego looked around, incredulous. This really was heaven. 

“Now, we’d like everyone to get a chance to settle into their homes this afternoon, but you are all expected at JT and Stevie’s house this evening for a welcoming cocktail party.

A couple stood at the front of the house and waved. The taller man was wearing a suit and waved, the other man smiled serenely and nodded.

A cocktail party? Diego could not think of anything he’d like less. If this was really heaven then they should be going to a football match and the pub after.

“Good luck!” David Luiz said to Diego, giving him a spontaneous hug before departing.

People took off with purpose and Diego realized he had no idea where he was headed. 

Roman was at his side again. “You were the last one to arrive, so let me show you to your house.”

They walked down the road, and Diego saw huge mansions, gorgeous townhouses….and they stopped in front of a tiny, multicolored bungalow.

Roman was looking at Diego with a smile on his face like he was expecting an excited response from him. Diego forced a smile on his face. “It’s...bright.”

“I know,” Roman said happily. “But we know how you like bright things. Wait until you see what’s inside!”

Diego was afraid to ask. He supposed it was too much to hope he had a frozen yogurt machine in his kitchen. 

Roman opened the door, and Diego noticed that it didn’t even appear to have a lock. That was stupid. Seriously. Anyone could just walk in and take all of your stuff.

But then again if this place really was full of people who lived such “good” lives, maybe they didn’t expect anyone to come in after dark and steal their laptops.

Diego stepped into the house and it was literally his worst nightmare come to life. The walls were covered with pictures of...clowns.

“Clowns!” Roman said. “Your favorite!”

“My...favorite?” Diego repeated hollowly as he looked around at the paintings and figurines that littered the front room of the house. In the middle of the room, there was a life sized statue of Bozo the Clown.

“Well, I suppose I should let you get settled in. I’ll see you at JT’s reception?”

“Yeah,” Diego said as he tried to find a piece of the house to look at that wasn’t about to give him a nightmare.

There was a light knock on the door that was still standing open. “Hello?”

Diego was grateful to focus on the man in the door. He was shorter than Diego with curly brown hair and a bright, intelligent smile.

“Ah, Juan!” Roman said happily. “Diego this is Juan Mata! He’s your soulmate!”

Juan shyly stepped forward and all Diego could do was stare.

What the flying fuck was going on here???


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego gets to know Juan and Steven just wants some crisps

"Juan was a professor of ethics at the University of Madrid. Our computers have matched you and him as perfect soulmates!" Roman said. "Alright. I'll let you two get to know each other."

Roman walked out with a wave, and Diego looked warily at Juan.

"A professor of...ethics?"

"Well," Juan demurred. "I was an associate professor. I also taught courses in poetry and literature."

Diego tried to look like he cared. Really he did. But his soulmate was a poet who taught ethics? Really?

"That sounds...interesting."

"It was," Juan said with a smile, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "So, what did you do?"

"Uh," Diego said as he looked around for an escape to this conversation. "Is my bed up there on a platform?"

Juan turned to look and saw that indeed, the bed seemed to be up on a platform with no way of getting up.

"This is so odd," Diego said as he clambered up the to the next level and looked at the bed which was covered with clown pillows. Seriously. Nightmares.

He began to chuck the clown pillows into the closet next to his bed and then noticed the clothes hanging there.

There were t-shirts and button down shirts. There was a stack of blue jeans. None of this was anything Diego would ever had worn. He had noticed that he was already wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but hadn't thought too much of it at the time. Now he noticed that the shirt read. "University of Michigan Law".

Juan stood down in the living room and eyed the shirt as well. "You went to law school at Michigan?"

"Uh...sure," Diego said, wondering where Michigan was located. It really didn't seem like something in Brazil.

"You're from Spain?" Diego said. "How do you speak Portuguese?"

"Uh, I'm speaking Spanish," Juan said. "And so are you."

"No..."

"That's so weird," Juan said. "Cesc!"

There was a flash and the man from the screen earlier appeared before Juan. "How can I be of help?"

"Cesc. What language am I speaking?"

"Spanish."

"And what is Diego speaking?"

Cesc looked expectantly at Diego who didn't say anything.

"Diego isn't talking," Cesc reported with a smile.

Juan laughed. "Diego!"

"Uh," Diego said, "Why aren't there stairs up to my bed?"

"Portuguese," Cesc said. "And the house wasn't designed for stairs."

"How can we understand each other?"

"The Good Place has a language filter so that everyone can understand everyone despite their native tongue."

Well, that was a relief anyway, Diego thought. He was utterly crap at languages. He'd flunked English and Spanish at school. Well, he'd flunked pretty much everything at school except football.

"Do you require anything else?" Cesc asked eagerly as though nothing in the world would make him happier.

"I need some chocolate," Diego said as he sat down on the bed.

"What kind of chocolate. I have some brigadeiro?" Cesc said as he offered Diego a plate of a chocolate sweet that looked like the kind his mom used to make.

“Oh, yes,” Diego said as he reached for a piece. Holy crap, it was exactly like his mother's.

"Fork, that's good," Diego sighed. And then he looked at Juan. "Why did I just say fork? I meant to say fork."

"There's no swearing in The Good Place," Cesc said, his smile never faltering. He offered a candy to Juan who took a piece experimentally. 

"That's forking stupid," Diego muttered and went for another chocolate.

"This is really good," Juan said. "What was it called again?"

"Brigadeiro," Diego said. "Just like my mum used to make."

"It's wonderful," Juan smiled.

"I'll leave this here," Cesc said as he set down the platter. "If there's nothing else, I really must go. JT needed some canapes."

Cesc popped out of the room and Diego looked down at Juan. He looked even shorter from up here. He was licking the last of the brigadeiro off of his fingers and pushed his glasses up again.

His soulmate, Diego pondered. "Do you want to go to this...party?"

"Uh," Juan said. "I...guess, I think it would be a good way to meet everyone. Don't you want to meet the other people here?"

"Juan, why do you think you're here?" Diego asked as he hopped down from the platform, accidentally kicking over one of the clowns.

"Well...I died," Juan said as he reached down to right the clown. "I don't remember it, but apparently..."

"No, no," Diego cut him off. "I mean, why do you think that you're in The Good Place?"

"I...was a good person," Juan said. "I mean, I think. Don't you think you were a good person, Diego?"

Diego looked into the earnest blue eyes. “No.”

Juan smiled sympathetically. "Is that what this is all about? You're afraid you weren't a good person?"

Diego shook his head. "Uh, I know I wasn't a good person."

"Nonsense," Juan said. "We all feel inadequate sometimes. But we wouldn't be here if we hadn't done something right."

It was on the tip of Diego's tongue to ask Juan exactly how many people he'd killed, but he decided he couldn't handle the horror that would appear in Bambi's eyes if Diego mentioned murder. Juan probably scooped up spiders and took them outside of his house.

"I suppose so," Diego said as he broke the eye contact and went for another chocolate.

Juan was quiet for a moment. "What are you wearing to the party? I think it's supposed to be fancy?"

"Fancy parties doesn't really sound like my version of heaven, to be honest," Diego said but when he saw Juan's face fall, he added, "Though I think there were some dress pants in the closet."

"I think you'd look nice dressed up," Juan said.

Diego felt an affection for Juan that he'd maybe never felt for anyone except maybe his mother and his grandmother.

"I think you'd like nice dressed up, too."

He'd left his house this morning to go and threaten to break someone's kneecaps and now he was flirting with some pretty guy that probably wouldn't have looked twice at Diego anywhere else.

Diego had certainly traversed to a different level of being, that was for sure.

*****

"Does everything look good? God, I hope everything looks good. This is my first big social event here in the afterlife and I simply cannot have it go wrong," JT said, wandering around the main hall of their palatial estate. 

Steven was sitting slumped on the couch.

JT looked at him expectantly, but then let out a small sigh of frustration. "I keep forgetting you've taken a vow of silence."

Steven glanced at him and attempted to give him a smile, but there wasn't much behind it. A vow of silence?

"Yes," JT looked away, trying to hide his disappointment. Here he was in The Good Place, having spent his life in devotion to charities of all kinds, having earned award after award for his selfless work, and his soul mate had turned out to be a mute.

"The house looks lovely!"

JT turned to see Roman entering the foyer of the house. "Roman," he smiled warmly and went to kiss the man on the cheek. "Do you think? I do want everyone to feel welcome here!"

"How can they be anything but?" Roman said as he looked to Steven. "Steven."

Steven stood up and went to join JT and Roman. He put on his face what he hoped was a look of peaceful serenity. He was afraid he might look constipated instead.

You see, Steven had indeed not been a Catholic monk who'd taken a vow of silence and poverty. He'd been a British footballer who was known for a bit of a nasty tackle from time to time. He was known for a love of blondes and a few pints. And, in general, being unable to keep his mouth shut even when he should.

But when he'd arrived, and, in shock, hadn't said anything for several minutes, Roman had interpreted it that he was serving some vow of silence, and Steven hadn't been able to think of anything to say for too long and now it seemed a bit too far to go back.

Now Roman and JT were discussing canapes. There were things that appeared to be raw fish and others that were vegetables. Steven would kill for an Irn Bru and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps.

"The guests should be here soon," JT looked around and then at Steven. Then at what Steven was wearing.

Steven looked down too. He was wearing what appeared to be monk robes of some kind. He was very thankful he didn't not also have some lame monk hair-do crap going on. He glanced at JT who clearly wanted him to change.

"I'm sure Steven is most comfortable in his monk robes," Roman said with a nod of respect.

What Steven would like would be a freaking pair of underwear. The robes were a of a rough spun cloth and it was seriously starting to chafe his johnson.

JT pasted on a bright smile. "Well then, I need to freshen up a tiny bit."

"If anyone arrives, I will help greet them," Roman said with a smile.

JT headed for the stairs and Steven headed for a room in the back of the house which he'd discovered through a panel on in the wall. It was empty and gave him a chance to think.

"Cesc?"

"Yes?" Cesc appeared.

"Cesc, I need a couch," Steven said, his voice a bit unfamiliar to him after a full day of silence.

"What kind of couch?"

"Something I can crash on," Steven said with a shrug.

A long, comfy looking couch appeared and Steven dropped onto it gratefully.

Cesc smiled. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Some pants."

In Cesc's hands appeared an array of underpants. There was a package of Y-fronts all the way to a silk pair with pink flamingos on them.

Steven grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs and gratefully pulled them up under the brown robes. "Jesus how do those monks deal with that."

"The monks of the..."

"Don't care," Steven said as he laid back on the couch. "Can I get a beer?"

Cesc handed Steven a bottle of Heineken.

"No, a Guinness."

Cesc replaced the bottle with a pint glass.

"Thanks," Steven said as he took a long drink. "Cesc, we need a television. One of them plasma screen things with HD everything."

A television appeared.

Steven made another series of requests until the room was kitted out with games consoles and gadgets.

Steven had nearly finished the beer. "Now, I need a packet of..."

There was a knock on the door.

"Steven?"

"Shit," Steven muttered. "Cesc, go away."

Cesc disappeared and Steven got up, hiding the empty pint glass and wiping his mouth to be sure there was no leftover foam.

Straightening his robes he went and cracked the door open.

"Hi," JT said and tried to see past Steven. Steven stepped out of the room and closed the panel behind him, looking serenely at JT. It was a lot easier to pull this off after a pint, he decided. "Uh, what's in there."

Steven put his hands in a prayer position.

"Oh...so...that's like your...meditation room?"

Steven nodded.

"And...can I see it?"

Steven shook his head.

"Oh...that's like...your sacred space," JT said and nodded. He took Steven's hands and looked him in the eye. "I respect that."

Steven smiled. JT was kind hot, really. He talked a fucking lot, but...

JT smiled back. "The guests are beginning to arrive. Oh, this will be such fun."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego isn't forking sure what he's doing in The Good Place.

Diego slugged down his third or fifth glass of champagne. He'd been to the buffet and filled an entire plate with jumbo shrimp and was sitting in a corner stuffing himself.

At least there was good food in this place.

He had really meant to sit here and try to figure out what the fuck he was going to do about this situation.

He was not supposed to be here, this much was obvious. Everyone else here was so perfect and he was not perfect. He wasn't even very good. Let's face it, on Earth, he'd been a total asshat.

He hadn't meant to be an asshat, but when you grew up on the streets of Brazil, you often did what you had to do to survive. He'd been 11 when his father had left him and his mother and three younger siblings. His mother's job didn't pay nearly what it cost to raise four kids, so Diego had dropped out of school, given up on his dream of being a professional footballer, and gotten work running errands for the local drug dealer. His mother hadn't been happy about it, but neither had she complained. Diego's money let them keep their home.

Diego hasn't set out to be bad. Did anyone?

What he'd really wanted to be was a footballer, he thought forlornly as he stuffed more shrimp into his mouth.

He suddenly realized he was being watched, and looked up to see Steven, the host JT's soulmate looking at him oddly.

Diego started to give him a glare, but then he realized he knew him from somewhere. He polished off his shrimp, grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and headed over to where Steven was sitting in a corner, serenely sipping what appeared to be a glass of water.

Two feet away, Diego realized it was vodka. Water didn't settle like that in a glass.

"Steven, is it?" Diego asked with a wolfish smile, taking a seat uninvited. "I'm Diego. Diego Costa. I live next door."

Steven smiled.

"So, you're a mute, I hear."

Steven nodded and took a large drink. Diego grinned. 

"So, what brand of monk chugs straight Grey Goose?"

Steven flushed even brighter pink than the liquor had already made his face.

"I swear I know you from somewhere," Diego said. "Ever been to Brazil?"

Steven shook his head emphatically.

"Hmm," Diego said. "It'll come to me soon enough."

Juan appeared with a couple of shrimp on a plate and Diego took it from him. "Was that all they had left?"

"Uh, no, there's plenty," Juan said as he watched, slightly horrified as Diego cleared his plate in about five seconds.

"We should go get some," Diego said as he drained his glass. "Don't you have a drink?"

"Uh, I had one glass already," Juan said as he struggled to catch up to Diego who was all but shoving people aside in his attempts to get at the buffet.

"One?" Diego said with a laugh. "We've been here an hour."

"If I drink too much, I get...silly," Juan admitted as he watched Diego pick up the entire tray of shrimp and two bottles of champagne. "Why don't you grab the cheese plate?"

Juan looked around apologetically at the rest of the crowd as he picked up a very small plate of cheese and scampered after Diego. He was seriously trying to figure out how this oaf of a man was actually supposed to have been his soulmate.

Diego led them to a room that had a closed door.

"I don't think we're supposed to go in here,” Juan said nervously as Diego dropped onto a white couch which he promptly put his trainers up on. He took a slug from the bottle of champagne and let out a belch.

“You know what? I’m not supposed to be here at all so fork it. FORK IT. DANG NABBIT.”

“What do you mean you’re not supposed to be here?” Juan asked as he leaned forward to catch the platter of shrimp before it tumbled to the floor. He eyed the bottle of champagne, but didn’t think it wise to try to take it from the clearly distraught Diego.

“Me. Here. The Forking Good Place.”

“Well, sure you are,” Juan said carefully.

“I’ve killed people. Juan. Killed them. That is not good karma.”

“I mean...I sure you...had your reasons,” Juan tried.

“I killed them because they pissed me off or they owed me money,” Diego took a swig and offered the bottle to Juan who took it and drank.

“You…killed people?”

“That’s what I said,” Diego let out a hiccup. “Dead people. I don’t even know how many. Several.”

Juan finished the bottle. “How…”

“You really want to know that??”

“NO,” Juan said suddenly. “No I don’t. KILLED PEOPLE???”

“Don’t SHOUT it,” Diego said. “Look! I know I don’t belong here…but this is a nice place…I like it here. I like you…I…”

“Don’t want to go to the bad place?”

“Yes, that too,” Diego admitted. He reached out and pulled Juan down to the couch, handing him the second bottle of champagne. “But…I didn’t like myself, you know? And my grandma was so disappointed in me. Maybe I can be better….you know?”

“I think you have to…like do that before you die,” Juan said.

“So…maybe this is my second chance!” Diego said. “You could help me! Didn’t Roman say you like did ethics and shirt?”

“Well, yes, I was a professor of ethics…”

“Yeah! You could, like, teach me how to be a good person!”

“DON’T KILL PEOPLE,” Juan said as he took another slug.

“I I feel like I should be writing this down,” Diego said as he got to his feet a bit unsteadily. He found a notepad on a table and took a pencil from the drawer.

“Don’t steal people’s things,” Juan said with a sigh.

“Don’t kill...don’t steal…” Diego scribbled. “What else?”

Juan sighed as he took another drink. “I don’t know if I can do this?”

“You were a professor! Unless, you were like a crap one,” Diego narrowed his eyes which made his vision blur. He blinked several times to clear it, ruining the effect.

“I taught like theory of ethics. Not like...practical applications of ethics.”

“So what’s the difference? You tell me the good shirt people do and I’ll do it!”

There was a loud crash outside the door and Juan and Diego turned to look at it. After helping each other to their feet, they wobbled to the door.

“What the fork is going on out here?” Diego asked

People at the party were running around and screaming. Diego looked out and tried to see what they were running from.

A massive sinkhole had opened up in the middle of the foyer, taking the entire buffet table down with it. People were rushing out the doors and JT and Roman stood near the edge of the gaping hole looking horrified.

"Shirt," Diego muttered as he approached them. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" Roman wailed. "This is so not supposed to be happening!"

"This is a pretty shirty heaven," Diego muttered probably too loudly as Juan gave him a glare. Yeah, he'd probably had too much champagne.

He chucked the bottle into the hole and it exploded causing the four of them to fall back.

"HOLY SHIRT!"

The four of them ran for the exit, only to find the world outside wasn't a whole lot better. Giant shrimp seemed to be falling out of a sky and...was that a herd of giraffes that just rampaged through the center of town?

"Cesc!" Roman yelled.

"How may I...."

Cesc got clobbered with a giant shrimp and went down.

"FORK!" Diego said as he shoved the shrimp aside and helped the dazed man to his feet.

"Well, that's new," Cesc frowned up at the sky.

"What is going on?" Roman asked as he guided the party to the shelter of the gazebo in JT's garden.

"It appears to be raining shrimp," Cesc supplied helpfully.

"Yes, we can see that," Roman said with as much patience as he could muster. "Why is it raining shrimp?"

Cesc shrugged. "Because raining chickens would be ridiculous?"

Diego was all for throwing Cesc into the sinkhole.

"I've got to get back to my office and try to figure this out. Diego, Juan, can you take JT to your house so he'll be safe?"

"What about Steven?" JT said fretfully. He’d lost track of his...uh..beloved in the melee at the house.

“I think I saw him running out the back door,” Juan said.

“We should go try to find him,” JT said.

Diego was about to express what a forking bad idea he thought that was, but Juan stomped on his foot.

“That would be a really kind thing to do.”

“Cesc, you go find out what all is going on and report to me in my office. Hopefully I’ll have a fix for this all soon. You guys stay safe,” Roman said as he and Cesc took off.

“Maybe he went to the frozen yogurt shop,” Diego tried.

Juan gave him an actual look of death.

“What,” Diego muttered. Steven was probably off praying for...cocktail sauce.

“We should stick together,” JT said as he looked around the yard. “I say we try the back of the house, first.”

“Alright. You lead the way and Diego and I will keep an eye out for...incoming crustaceans,” Juan said.

Diego went along. Was this what good people did he wondered as they ducked and dived their way across the yard toward the house. Because if it was, he was forking just going to go take his chance in hell.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the shrimp storm

JT was calling for Steven as the chaos ensued. Diego and Juan followed, and Diego briefly wondered that as Steven was mute, how JT expected to get a response from his soul mate. 

Diego's buzz was wearing off and he was seriously starting to get nauseous after all of the shrimp he'd been eating.

"I don't feel good," he warned Juan all of about three seconds before he stopped to puke in a bed of hydrangeas.

Juan sighed and stopped with him, glancing at JT who was flat against the side of the house to avoid a herd of wildebeests. Juan wasn't feeling so great himself, and the sight of Diego puking was not doing him any favors.

Thankfully, in his attempts to look anywhere but at Diego, Juan spotted Steven running into Diego's house next door, monk robes flapping in the breeze.

"There he is!" Juan pointed and the three made a mad dash across the yard and followed Steven into Diego's house.

"My love!" JT called as he spotted Steven on the couch.

Steven looked started to see the trio. Though no more startled than Steven was by the ungodly sight of all those clowns all over the house.

Diego empathized. Why couldn't a giant sinkhole open up and eat this nightmare of a house?

JT went to give Steven a hug, more for himself than for Steven. Quite frankly, JT needed something to hold on to in this cluster fork of a universe they were living in. This was supposed to be the Good Place. "My party was ruined," JT said as he started to cry.

Steven awkwardly patted him on the back.

"It was... a nice party," Juan tried as his stomach lurched and he went running for Diego's bathroom.

"It was a forking disaster," Diego said honestly.

"It was," JT wailed and Steven gave Diego a glare.

"What?" Diego said. "I mean, there is a sink hole in your house and we have a shrimp shower. These are not good things..." Diego trailed off as he realized that once again, he was being an ashhole.

It was hard not to be when people did and said stupid things! What were you supposed to do...?

"But the buffet was lovely," Diego tried.

Steven nodded and JT looked at them. "You think we had enough food?"

"I know I over ate," Diego said as the sounds of Juan retching filled the small house.

"I just wanted people to enjoy themselves and get to know each other. I mean, if we're going to spend an eternity together, we should try to like each other, you know?"

Diego couldn't disagree. As much as the man grated on his every last nerve, JT had only been setting up the party to bring people together in the only way he knew how.

"You know what my grandmother would always do when we'd had a bad day at school?" Diego asked, the memory suddenly flooding back to him, long forgotten.

"What?" JT asked as he sat up, his face dented in from the scratchy fabric of Steven's robe. He made a mental note to see if Cesc could get him something perhaps in a nice merino wool.

"Take us out for some ice cream."

"Yeah?" JT said with a smile. "I could really go for some frozen yogurt right now."

Diego went to the kitchen and got a bowl out of the cupboard which he filled from the frozen yogurt machine that had replaced one of the cabinets.

"Where did you get that?" JT asked, amazed as he accepted the bowl and a spoon.

"I had Cesc install it," Diego said as he filled a second for Steven who happily accepted it.

"Aren't you having any?" JT asked when he saw Diego go for a glass of sparkling water.

"I'm good," Diego said as he wondered if he needed to check on Juan.

A good person would check, the voice in Diego's head said and he wondered how the fork that little voice had gotten loud today. He'd always had a conscience. He'd just been very good at ignoring it.

Tapping lightly on the bathroom door, Diego called, "Juan? You okay in there?"

There was a slight groan and the toilet flushed. Juan appeared looking wan. “Lovely.”

Diego offered him the sparkling water he’d gotten for himself. “Here, this will help.”

“Thank you,” Juan said with a smile as he took the bottle. “How’s JT?”

“Eating frozen yogurt. Now what do we do?”

“Well, I suppose we wait this out in here and hope Roman gets to us with news,” Juan said as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, exhaustion overwhelming him.

“We have to let…” Diego started to complain and then closed his mouth. A good person would not complain about letting the neighbors stay over in the middle of a shrimp storm. “Do you suppose the couch is a sofa bed?”

Juan gave him a smile. “We might reform you yet, Diego.”

* * * *

The couch did indeed fold out into a bed which Steven and JT shared. Diego let Juan have his bed and slept on a pile of clown cushions on the floor. He was used to it and since dying really took it out of a person, he didn’t have much trouble falling asleep. 

The noise outside must have subsided some time in the night, because when Diego woke the following morning, all was quiet. He smelled coffee, and when he stuck his head up, he saw that Juan was not only up, but had made the bed.  
He made his way to the kitchen, sliding off the bed platform, and found Juan at the kitchen table with JT with steaming mugs of coffee in front of them.

“Morning,” Juan said with a smile, clearly feeling better.

“Hey,” Diego said, scratching his butt as he went for a mug of coffee. He peered out the window over the sink. There was a mess outside, but it seemed to have settled. The giraffes were grazing on the trees in his backyard and a tiger was gnawing on the end of s shrimp, but the chaos had quieted. “Looks okay out there.”

“Yeah, we peeked out the front door. JT’s house is still standing, so that’s a good thing,” Juan said.

“We thought we’d wait for you and Steven to wake up before we went to investigate,” JT glanced despondently at the snoring monk.

Suddenly, Cesc popped in to view. “Good morning,” he said and set a round of coffees down on the kitchen table. “Roman would like to request the pleasure of your presence in his office this morning.”

“Are you like, going to transport us there?” asked Juan who had seen entirely too many episodes of Star Trek in his life.

“No,” Cesc gave him a look. “You’re going to walk - it’s like 100 yards that way.” He pointed out the back door.

“Right,” Juan said, his face going flushed in a way that Diego found strangely...adorable.

“Should we wake him?” JT asked as he glanced at Steven. His beloved snorted and scratched his balls.

“Nah,” Diego said, figuring that of all of them, Steven probably had the worst hangover to sleep off, having been at the straight vodka the night before.

The trio followed Cesc out the back door, carrying the lattes that Cesc had provided, leaving a note should Steven regain consciousness before they got back. A few people wandered about, some making a half hearted attempt to clean up some of the mess.

“Can’t you just….fix all this?” Diego asked as he watched a man struggle to pull a giant shrimp out of a flower bed.

“I tried,” Cesc said with a frown. “Something is seriously wrong in the internal matrix of the place.”

“Where exactly are we, anyway?” JT asked as they approached the city hall of the community where Roman’s office was located. “Like, in the clouds???”

“We’re in The Good Place,” Cesc said with a shrug.

The city hall didn’t look to have been too much affected by the night’s mayhem. There was a desk in the front with a pile of pamphlets: “Ten Best Frozen Yogurt Places”. Diego grabbed one before Cesc took them to the elevator where they rode to the top floor.

Roman was pacing his office. “Oh good, you’re here,” he said as they arrived. “Cesc? Go see about clean up efforts in the town.”

Cesc disappeared and Roman invited them to sit.

“So, Cesc says we have no idea what’s going wrong?” Juan asked as they sat. He gave Diego a side eye glare as the Brazilian dove for a plate of cookies on Roman’s desk.

“No,” Roman sighed, “though things seem to have settled down. It’s almost like something is wrong in the Universal Balance of the place.”

“What does that mean?” JT asked.

“Basically, The Good Place is based on the eternal harmony of the people here. You were all good people, and your goodness is what creates the ability of this space to exist.”

Diego looked ill.

“So...if someone does something...bad?” Juan asked, unable to look at Diego.

“Well, I mean, we all do good and bad,” Roman dismissed this idea. “It’s not like anyone is perfect, but when the bad outweighs the good…”

“Too much drunken wild partying?” JT asked, worried his party might have caused this.

“Nah,” Roman said. “It’s almost like...like someone who’s here isn’t supposed to be…”

“That could...cause all this?” Diego squeaked.

Then, Roman shook his head. “Nah. It must be something in the code. Hey, do you guys want to go help Cesc clean up?”

“Uh,” Juan said, taken aback by Roman’s 180. “Sure.”

“Diego, could you stick around a sec?” Roman asked as the three rose to leave.

“Uh, sure,” Diego said with a fearful glance at Juan who still couldn’t meet his eye. 

JT and Juan left, closing the door behind them. Roman’s face grew serious as he looked at Diego.

“We need to talk.”


End file.
